


The Mess We Make

by CrunchyWrites



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Gods, Barista!Zagreus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, I'd like to thank Ask A Mortician for teaching me about crematories, Lovers to Distant Acquaintances to Lovers again, M/M, Mortician!Thanatos, Rating to change as fic progresses, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 01:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30098127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrunchyWrites/pseuds/CrunchyWrites
Summary: Years after leaving his father's house and reuniting his parents, Zagreus is comfortably settled in a new place, with a new job, and his past put comfortably behind him. Old relationships have been replaced with new friendships, and life is, for the most part, straightforward.And then, because the Fates are bastards, Thanatos reappears, and everything changes.
Relationships: Thanatos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	The Mess We Make

The sign above the café is the first thing to catch Thanatos’ attention.

The gold lettering on it practically glows in the soft autumn morning sunlight, the loops and curves of the borderline flamboyant text spelling out the ‘The Grapevine’ across the wine-dark background. By some miracle, it just about manages to skirt the line between tacky and tasteful, which would normally be enough to put Thanatos off, and it likely would have been today, too, had he not spotted the second sign hung on the inside of the door. The second sign is significantly smaller than the first one, and it reads ‘Open!’, and then beneath that, in slightly smaller letters, it reads ‘Early bird discount applies until 8:30am.’

It’s 8:15. Than knows this for a fact, because he’s been frantically checking his watch every twenty seconds or so since he left his flat. He’s not running late. He’s _Thanatos_ – he _never_ runs late. What he is running, though, is about five minutes behind, meaning that he’s going to arrive at his new job a mere ten minutes early as opposed to his usual fifteen. It’s not much of an issue, and he knows that no one is likely to complain, or even be around early enough to see him arriving insufficiently early, but it bugs him all the same. It feels like a thorn pressing against his skin, scratching away and tangling with his anxiety to make it sharper and more unpleasant. He’s already checked (and double-checked, and _triple-_ checked) the subway timetable. He knows exactly how much time he has.

He knows how much time he has, and he knows that he can afford to take a few minutes out to grab something to drink, and he also really, truly, absolutely knows, that he is _very_ much in need of caffeine at the moment.

For a minute, he wishes that he had actually called Hypnos last night, just so they could have a chat or a catch-up or organise some time to meet now that they’re finally living in the same city again. He always did sleep better after talking to Hypnos, for whatever reason, and he really would have much preferred to show up on his first day at the funeral home properly rested and ready to work, as opposed to slightly groggy and generally irritable at the world in general, and at his own brain for giving him shit sleep in particular. First impressions count, after all. Working at a funeral home, he has to deal with first impressions every single day, and normally with grieving families. _Gods_. He wonders if he’ll be expected to handle customers on his first day there. He probably won’t, what with being the new employee and all, but he’s not willing to risk it, and he’s _definitely_ not willing to risk having to handle a grieving family when he’s still groggy and under-caffeinated.

So, yeah. He needs something to drink, preferably caffeinated, and preferably not _too_ strong, because although it’s hard to fill in death certificates when your eyes keep trying to fall asleep, it’s also hard to do some of the more fiddly parts of funeral arranging and body preparing with hands that are shaking from a caffeine overdose. Something hot would also be appreciated, seeing how autumn isn’t even over but the city is already starting to get chilly, but it’s not essential. Caffeine first, temperature and taste later.

It takes barely a split second more thinking for Than to make up his mind. He’s not entirely sure if he believes in the Fates, or in fate in general, but there’s only so many stories about them that he could hear from Nyx before some element of them started permeating his subconscious, and he can’t help but wonder if they had a hand in this. Maybe they really do orchestrate everything. Maybe they don’t. Either way, _something_ has led him to a café right when he needs one, and he’s not going to ignore that. He needs the caffeine.

He’s not saying that it’s _definitely_ the work of the Fates that make him pause in his speed-walking and instead turn toward the café’s door, but he’s also not saying that it isn’t. It’s fate-adjacent. Maybe. Either way, it doesn’t matter, because the café is open and is, presumably, selling some sort of caffeinated beverage, and that’s all that Thanatos really cares about at this moment in time.

He pushes open the door to the café, hearing the bells above it ring out in a merry little chime. The warm air sweeps over him, drawing him in further; thankfully, the queue at the counter is only a few people deep, and things seem to be moving swiftly, or at least as swiftly as they can at this time of day. This should be fine. It’ll put him back a few minutes at most, and he can just walk faster to make up for it. There’s nothing to be worried about, and now that he’s actually here, standing in the line and peering awkwardly around the queue in an attempt to read the menu, he feels it would be _weirder_ to just leave the café and walk out. There’s other people in the café, after all. They might see him. In an ideal world he’d be able to blink out of existence entirely, reappearing exactly where he needs to be without any of the awkwardness of having to excuse himself, but unfortunately this isn’t an ideal world, which means that he’s now stuck here in the queue, eyes scanning the large blackboard behind the counter that doubles as a menu. It’s mostly exactly what he would expect from any café, with the typical selection of teas and coffees and hot chocolates and various other drinks, but some of the tea blends are ones that he doesn’t recognise. _Ambrosia_ tea, for example. He’s got no idea what that is.

The queue shuffles forwards, and the sound of hissing brewing machines once again fills the air. Than doesn’t pay much attention to the conversation going on before him in the queue, focused on deciding what he’ll order; he can’t hear much of what’s being said anyway, not over the background chatter of the café and the noise of _something_ being brewed. He waits in line for another minute or so, checking his watch more times than he knows is really necessary, and then, finally, it’s his time to order.

“There you go,” says the person behind the counter, handing a drink to the person ahead of Thanatos. “Have a nice day!”

Than freezes.

He knows that voice. He _knows_ that voice. He knows that voice as well as he knows his own voice, as well as he knows his brothers’ voices. He knows who’s standing behind the counter. The person ahead of Than in the queue moves, heading towards the front door of the café, but Than hardly even notices them. He knows that voice. He knows exactly who it belongs to. It’s-

 _Zagreus_.

It’s Zagreus, and he’s hardly changed at all.

Somehow, that’s what throws Than more than anything. It hasn’t been a huge period of time since he last saw Zagreus, not in the grand scheme of things, but the fact that Zagreus looks so similar to how he did the last time that Than laid eyes on him makes him feel oddly off-balance, as though he’d been climbing a staircase only to find that the stair he was expecting at the top wasn’t there. Zagreus looks- he looks- he looks like _Zagreus_ , with the same pale skin and dark hair and quick smile and easy laugh. His hair is a little longer than it was when Than last saw him but it’s no less scruffy, still sticking up in every possible direction as though his hair gel was attempting to defy gravity but couldn’t quite decide in which direction to try its luck. His eyes are the same too, which is something that feels as though it shouldn’t come as a surprise and yet somehow does – the heterochromia that always made them so distinctive is still present, one eye a rich, vibrant green, and the other an odd shade of brown that can look almost red in the right light. They’re intriguing eyes, fascinating eyes, beautiful eyes – they were one of Than’s favourite features of Zagreus’ face, once upon a time. Part of Than feels that they still should be. Even with the- even with the _history_ that he and Zagreus share, they’re still objectively lovely eyes. They’re beautiful.

Zagreus is beautiful, just as he always was.

It’s been- what? Three years since he last saw Zagreus now? Four? Enough time to graduate and start working and eventually move away from the town they’d both grown up in at the very least. It’s been enough time to get over what had happened. It’s been enough time to move on.

Or at least, he’d thought it had been. Standing here, face to face with his ex, he’s suddenly no longer quite so sure. It hadn’t exactly been _easy_ to sort through his emotions in the immediate aftermath of Zagreus’ departure, but time and distance and an absolute, complete lack of contact from either of them had definitely made things easier. He thought he’d worked through all this. He thought he’d accepted what had happened. He thought he’d moved on, and moved past it, and acknowledged that while their previous relationship had been nice while it lasted, it was over now, and there was nothing left to feel about it apart from a quiet, subdued, _rightfully-earned_ sense of annoyance towards Zagreus.

Apparently not.

He can see the exact moment that Zagreus parses exactly who he’s looking at – for a second, when their eyes first meet, he doesn’t react at all, the same standard customer service smile hanging around his lips, but then the frozen stillness passes and his eyes widen in recognition. His gaze darts over Thanatos, scanning him from head to toe; Than feels Zagreus’ eyes settle on his scarf, his bag, his hair, before finally meeting his eyes, and it’s- and it’s-

And it’s _weird_.

It’s _weird_ to see Zagreus again, almost unpleasantly so. Thanatos would be lying if he said that he’d never thought about what this moment would be like during the last few years. He feels it’s a normal reaction to have after being unexpectedly dumped, if you could even call it that. ‘Abandoned’ is maybe a more fitting word. ‘Walked out on.’ Something along those lines. Something that covers the sudden ending of a relationship when no words had been said to convey as much. Whatever word he uses to describe it, though, the end result is still the same. He’s still spent a number of quiet, contemplative evenings wondering just what would happen if he were to see Zagreus again. Would he ask him what happened? Would he ask him why he left? Would he miss him enough to want to get back together with him, to reach out for his hand and see if Zagreus reached back the way that he always used to? Would he feel mournful, happy, excited?

It turns out that the answer is none of the above.

It turns out that the answer is that, with every second that passes, Thanatos can feel his annoyance and frustration grow until he feels like he’s choking on it.

 _Zagreus_. Of fucking _course_ Zagreus had to be here, in this one random café on this one random street on the way to Than’s new fucking job. Of course. His day is already off to a less than spectacular start – it’s just his luck that the Fates would decide to throw Zagreus directly in his way too, after several perfectly fine, perfectly peaceful years.

 _Fuck the Fates_ , Than thinks, and then he shoves his feelings aside, reminds himself that he is here for caffeine and for _nothing_ else, and steps up to the counter, watching Zagreus’ eyes widen further as he approaches.

“Oh,” Zagreus says. His voice isn’t tremendously quiet, not by Than’s standards, but it’s quiet for him, and some part of Thanatos hates that he still knows that. “You- Than.”

When Thanatos replies, he takes care to ensure that his voice is perfectly level. “Zagreus.”

“I- I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

Zagreus cracks a small smile at that. “I can imagine. It’s been- wow, it must be a few years now since we last saw each other.”

Than hums. “Something like that.”

Zagreus’ smile grows, spreading across his face as he rests his weight on the counter, leaning forward slightly. “Are you- are you just visiting town, or…?” He lets the question trail off, eyebrows raising curiously. His smile doesn’t waver. His gaze doesn’t waver. He just continues to smile at Than, sounding curious and somewhat excited but mostly just _calm_ , and something about that calmness, about the ease with which Zagreus is speaking, about how unbothered he seems to be by their shared past, makes frustration rise in Thanatos’ blood.

At the edges of his skull, Than can feel his anger growing like brambles. It’s not even anger that Zagreus is here, now – it’s moved beyond that, expanding and stretching to encapsulate everything that Zagreus is doing. It’s anger at how _calm_ he is, at how collected he is, at how, beyond his initial surprise and the slightly uncertain air that still undercuts his words, he doesn’t seem particularly phased by Than’s unexpected arrival. He seems as though- well, truth be told, he seems as though he’s completely forgotten what happened the last time that they saw each other. He seems as though he has no idea what he did.

He seems as though he has no idea what he did to _Than_.

The thoughts flash through Than’s mind in an instant, crystallising into sharp points of unexpectedly bitter frustration. He doesn’t want to answer the question, he realises. He doesn’t want Zagreus to know the answer. He doesn’t want Zagreus to know that he’s going to be staying in the same city as him for the foreseeable future, commuting past Zagreus’ apparent place of employment every single goddamn morning. For a moment, Than wonders if there’s other routes that he could take to get to work, routes that would avoid this particular street and this particular café, but he dismisses the thought almost immediately. He’d figured out the quickest and most efficient route between his flat and his new place of work the moment his flat deposit had been all sorted out. He knows full well that this is the quickest route to work by a significant margin, and though he _could_ just get up ten minutes earlier in order to avoid so much as seeing The Grapevine, it seems like a disproportionate amount of effort just to avoid a reminder of something that he’s long since accepted and moved on from. He’s going to keep walking past this café. Whether or not he’ll stop in again is another question altogether, one that he doesn’t particularly feel like mulling on at this point in time, and it’s a question that, just like the one that Zagreus just asked him, doesn’t actually concern Zagreus at all.

Than doesn’t answer. He tries to make it clear from his expression and body language that he’s not going to answer it any time soon, and thankfully Zagreus seems to understand that. He gives a little nod, more to himself than to Than. “Right,” he mutters. His gaze, Thanatos notices, keeps on drifting to his hair. “Right, okay.”

Than narrows his eyes. “What are you looking at, Zagreus?” he asks. He tries not to sound like he’s snapping at him, tries to keep most of the ire out of his voice, but some of it slips through all the same, lacing acid along his words.

If Zagreus is surprised by his tone, he doesn’t say anything. He just raises a hand, gesturing vaguely towards Than’s face.

“You cut your hair,” he remarks quietly.

Than raises a hand self-consciously, touching the soft, fuzzy hair of his undercut. “I did,” he replies shortly. He doesn’t give an explanation.

Zagreus nods a little, glancing away and glancing back and then glancing away again. “It-it looks good.”

“I know.”

“Right. Right.”

A moment passes, the silence so thick that Than could cut it with a knife if only he had one to hand. He can’t hear anyone in the queue behind him – thank the Gods for small mercies – so at least he’s not stopping anyone else from getting their drink and moving on with their day, but he wishes that Zagreus would just hurry up and do his job. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to have to be dealing with this, not on his first day at a new job.

 _Fuck the fates_ , Thanatos thinks, for the second time that day.

He gives a small sigh, immediately catching Zagreus’ attention. Zag’s gaze flickers over to meet his, his mouth already starting to open as though he’s going to ask Than if he’s alright, but Than waves a hand and cuts him off before he can speak.

“I’m just here to get something to drink, Zagreus,” he says.

“Oh,” Zagreus replies. For a moment it seems as though he had absurdly expected for Thanatos to actually be looking to hold a conversation with him, a look of confusion and quiet hurt crossing his face, but then the moment passes. Zagreus nods. “Right,” he says. “What can I get you?”

Shit, what had he wanted? He can barely remember now. “…Tea.”

Zagreus raises an eyebrow. It’s as annoyingly attractive as it always was, this time with more emphasis on the ‘annoying.’ “We have a lot of teas here, Than. You might have to be a bit more specific.”

Than casts his eyes quickly over the board. He’s long since forgotten what he’d actually wanted, so he just picks one at random. “The- the nectar tea.”

“That one’s good,” Zagreus comments. “It’s a nice black tea blend. Are you drinking it here or…?”

“No.”

“Oh. Alright.” He steps back, about to turn and grab one of the stacked paper cups, when Than stops him.

“Wait,” he says quickly, reaching into his bag and fumbling around. “I’ve got a- there. Reusable cup.”

Zagreus takes it. “’World’s Okayest Mortician,’” he reads off it, scanning the text printed on one side. “Oh. Is that what you’re doing now?”

Than snorts. “Don’t sound so surprised, Zagreus.”

“I’m not surprised, Than, really. I was just- well, no one really kept me updated, and I’ve wondered a few times if you graduated mortician school-“

“Mortuary college.”

“-mortuary college after I, um…” Zagreus trails off, fidgeting with the silver and black travel mug. “…Well. I’m glad to see that you made it.”

“No thanks to you,” Than mutters under his breath. He doesn’t know if Zagreus heard him. He feels as though he should say something else, as though he should make some mirroring remark about what Zagreus is now up to, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t think he wants to. What Zagreus is doing, what Zagreus has _been_ doing for the last few years, is none of his concern. He decided that a long time ago, and just because he happens to be here now, barely a few feet away from someone who he once lo- from Zagreus, does not mean that he needs to start thinking about it again. He’s done his worrying about Zagreus. He’s done the concern. He’s done the anxiety, and the doubt, and the loss, and he’s past that all now. What Zagreus is up to doesn’t concern him, and he’s not going to think about it.

“It doesn’t seem like your style,” Zagreus says, shaking Thanatos out of his thoughts. Than glances at him for a moment, frowning, and Zagreus lifts the silver and black travel mug in silent answer. _Oh_.

Thanatos clears his throat. “It’s not. Hypnos got it for me.”

Zagreus smiles. “That would explain it,” he replies, his voice gaining some of cheer and warmth that Thanatos can still so clearly remember. He still remembers what it was like to talk to Zagreus every day, or nearly every day. He remembers what it was like to make Zagreus smile, to make him laugh, to hear all that warmth and affection and fondness in his voice and know that it was directed towards _him_. He remembers what it was like to show Zagreus his own warmth and affection and fondness in return.

He remembers how hard the sudden absence of his voice had been.

And then, in the wake of that brief moment of mournful remembrance, comes the sharp, prickly tide of anger and irritation that all of his feelings of loss had turned to. _Zagreus_ had been the one who had ruined all that, not him. It wasn’t his fault. It was Zagreus’ fault, all of it, and now Zagreus is standing before him, smiling and teasing and acting as though he’d done nothing wrong at all, and Thanatos can’t stand it.

He can’t stand it, and he doesn’t know what to _do_.

He ends up saying nothing at all as Zagreus starts preparing the tea, placing the mug down on the counter so that he can move over to where all the boxes of teabags are stacked in a little colourful pyramid above the confectionary display.

“I didn’t know you were moving here,” Zagreus says as he takes a teabag from the box, somehow sounding almost entirely casual. “Hypnos never said anything. Charon didn’t either, but he doesn’t say much of anything.”

That makes Than pause. “You’re still in touch with Hypnos?” he asks. He doesn’t ask about Charon. Somehow, Charon seems to be in touch with just about everyone, so it doesn’t come as much of a surprise.

Zagreus frowns. “Well… yeah? Hypnos works the reception at my gym – I see him all the time. Why do you ask? Aren’t you still in touch with him? I mean, I know you two weren’t especially close, but-”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I’m still in touch with my brother. He just never said anything about _you_ being here,” Than retorts. He almost spits the words, feeling frustration and annoyance curling along his thoughts, twisting and tangling with them until he’s sure he must be glaring at Zagreus. Part of him wonders how Zagreus is feeling about all this. Most of him doesn’t care. He just wishes, he just _really_ wishes, that Hypnos had had the presence of mind to let him know that his ex was living in the same city that he was going to be moving to.

And it seems that what’s swirling through his head must show on his face, because Zagreus looks at him, meeting his gaze, and, as Than watches, his expression drops ever so slightly.

“…Would it have changed things?” Zagreus asks. “If you’d known that I was here too?”

 _I don’t know_. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to, Zagreus.”

“Oh,” Zagreus replies. He looks down, suddenly seeming very preoccupied with tearing open the paper packaging of the teabag. “Right.”

Thanatos sighs “Zagreus-”

“No, no, that’s- I understand. I think.” He goes to drop the teabag into the mug only to notice that the lid is still on. After a split second, where Than watches his eyes dart from the teabag to the mug to the teabag again, he carefully grips the little paper tag of the teabag between pinky and ring finger and then proceeds to cautiously open the mug. Than pretends not to notice how out of character this slight fumble is for Zagreus. He’s pretending not to notice a lot of things.

Silence blooms between them as Zagreus takes the travel mug over to a large, shiny machine sitting beneath the blackboard and fills it with steaming water. Almost immediately Than can smell the scent of the brewing tea, sweet and warm and just a little bit earthy. It smells pretty good – reassuring, seeing how it was a tea picked off the menu entirely at random – and Than swears he feels his brain perk up at the mere reminder of imminent caffeine.

“Do you want any sugar with it?” Zagreus asks.

“No.” A pause. “Thank you.”

Zagreus looks up from pushing the lid back onto the travel mug, a small, knowing smile hovering around his lips. “I figured you wouldn’t,” he says. “You never did like… what was it that you called it? ‘Spoiling the taste of the drink?’”

“I never called it that.”

“I think you did, Than.”

“No, I- I’m just of the opinion that disguising the taste of a drink is ridiculous. You can hardly judge me; you like your drinks with so much sugar that you can’t actually taste what you’re drinking,” Than retorts. It’s so, so damn easy to fall into the familiar bickering. He feels he knows all his lines by heart. “I mean really, Zagreus. What’s the point of ordering coffee if you can’t tell that you’re drinking coffee? You might as well dissolve caffeine pills in syrup.”

“Hey, I only did that one time! It was scientific curiosity!”

“It was ridiculous.”

“It worked, though.”

“Only once you added the syrup to boiling water. And yet you never tried to do it again.”

Zagreus’ smile widens. “Dissolving caffeine pills takes more effort than simply making coffee in the first place is all, Than. Surely you understand that. You’re all about efficiency.”

“Hm,” Than says. He doesn’t think about how familiar this gentle arguing is. He doesn’t think about how much an old part of him, long since pushed away and ignored, misses it all. He nods towards his mug instead. “Is that done?”

“Oh, yes, sorry. It’s on the house,” Zagreus says, pushing the cup forwards.

Than tuts. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m paying.”

“I insist.”

“Well so do I.”

 _“Than_ -“ Zagreus starts, a trace of cajoling pleading in his voice, and it’s so familiar, is so recognised, is so _known_ to Than that it somehow crystallises all the old bitterness lying in wait at the back of his skull.

 _“Zagreus_ ,” he interrupts sharply. This time, Zagreus actually falls silent. That, at least, hasn’t changed about him – for all that he could be very good at listening when he needed to be, knowing when to wait and when to be patient and when to just be a willing ear for Than- for whoever, he could also be like… this. It reminds Than of how things used to be. It irritates him. He forces himself to breathe, shutting his eyes for a brief moment. When he opens them, he resolutely keeps looking directly at Zagreus. “I,” he says, and his tone is just slightly less annoyed than it was before, “am paying for my drink. You can’t stop me.”

“I wasn’t trying to-“

Than passes him the money before Zagreus can say anything else. Zagreus takes it, falling silent. For the briefest of moments, their fingers brush as coins slide from hand to hand. Zagreus’ hand is just as warm as Thanatos remembers. It’s just as familiar.

He pulls his hand back quickly, trying not to make the motion too sharp or too apparent. Zagreus doesn’t seem to notice, thankfully – he’s staring down at his hand, and Thanatos can’t quite tell if he’s just counting the coins that Than handed over or if he, like Than, can feel the lingering heat of where their hands briefly brushed together for the first time in what feels like forever. Did he think about Than after he left, the same way that Than was left thinking about him? Did he, like Than, wonder if things could have been different, if things could have been _better_? He’s already admitted to wondering how Than’s mortician training had gone, which implies that he must have thought about Than at least a little bit, but all of a sudden, Than finds that he wants to know _more_. He wants to know if Zagreus had also pulled out his phone on more than one occasion, scrolling to his number or to their conversation history and waiting with his thumbs hovered over the keys, wondering if he should call or text. He wants to know if Zagreus had also thought back on all the conversations that they’d had in the days leading up to his departure, wondering if anything he’d said could have changed the outcome. He wants to know if Zagreus had thought of him at all beyond a few questions in all the time that has passed.

He wants to know _why_.

_Why didn’t you say anything, Zagreus?_

Even among the quiet background babble of the café, the coins sound far louder than they should when they drop into their slots in the till, metal ringing out against metal. Thanatos thinks he can hear his own breath rushing through his lungs, as slow and as steady as ever but somehow different, weighed down with countless unanswered questions that he’d thought were safely tucked away at the back of his mind, pushed away and forgotten about. For the first time since Zagreus left, for the first time in _years_ , he’s finally got the opportunity to ask them. He could have asked them before, of course – it wasn’t as though Zagreus left and took his phone number with him – but none of them were questions that he could really ask over text, and especially not then. He needed this time, this break, this separation, to let himself come to terms with what happened. To let himself process what happened. 

Or, as he’s very quickly realising, to let himself _delude_ himself into thinking that he’d processed what had happened. Annoying as it is to accept it, it seems that Hypnos had been right when he’d told Thanatos all those months ago that ignoring his feelings was not the same as accepting them.

_Damn it._

The till shuts with a quiet _click_. The silence stretches between them, taught as a wire, until Zagreus breaks it.

“Hey… Than?”

Thanatos glances over at him. “What?”

Zagreus smiles. It’s a small smile, halfway between hopeful and uncertain. “Will I- I don’t suppose there’s any chance that I’ll see you around again?”

 _I doubt it_ , Than means to say. He feels that should be the answer. It’ll be much, _much_ easier for him to continue with his life if he simply never visits this café again. It’ll be much easier for him to continue with his life if he forgets that he saw Zagreus at all. It’ll be much easier for him to continue with his life if he leaves, and drinks his tea, and then puts this entire encounter entirely out of his mind, letting himself return to how things were all of five minutes ago. It’s the sensible thing to do. It’s the _obvious_ thing to do.

It’s not what Than ends up saying.

“We’ll see,” he says instead.

“Right,” Zagreus says. “Right, right, okay.”

There’s a pause.

“Are you going to be staying here long?” Zagreus asks, the words tumbling out of his mouth. He leans forwards slightly, the action appearing to be unconscious, and doesn’t look away from Than. It makes something twist in Than’s stomach, seeing how clearly Zagreus wants to spend time with him, to _talk_ with him, but the feeling lasts for barely a second before Than crushes it down again. He’s not- he’s _not_ doing this. Not again. He’s not letting himself remember how good things used to be. He’s not letting him think about how familiar Zagreus’ smile is. He’s not letting himself mull on what used to be, on what they used to have, on what they once were. That time is over. He’s moved on. He’s moved on, and he doesn’t care whether or not Zagreus has.

Across the counter, Zagreus smiles at him, soft and quietly hopeful.

 _I don’t care_ , Than tells himself again. He doesn’t think about how much he missed Zagreus in the days and weeks and months after his departure. He doesn’t think about that at all. _I do not care_.

“I’ll stay here for as long as I need to,” he says instead, and then, before he can stop himself, he says, “Why?”

“I just- well, it was nice seeing you again today is all, Than. It’s been a while and it- this has been… well, it’s been nice.” He shrugs, smiling slightly. “I was wondering if you’d be around long enough for us to maybe see each other again.”

“I live here now, Zagreus. I have a job here. I can hardly vanish on a whim.” _Unlike you_.

“I know, Than, I know, but-”

“But _what_?” Than hears himself snap. “Come on, Zagreus. Don’t play stupid. You can’t honestly expect for me to go out of my way to see you again. Not after what happened last time we saw each other.”

Zagreus deflates. “Than-”

“This-“ Thanatos continues, waving a hand to encompass the both of them, “-was all accidental. I’ve already told you that I didn’t know that you were here. I just happened to need something to drink, and this shop happened to be on my commute. I don’t know if I’ll be back, and frankly whether I am or not is none of your concern. Now if you’ll excuse me, Zagreus, I have a funeral home to get to.” He reaches down, snatching the cup up from the counter. “Don’t take up any more of my time.”

Before Zagreus has a chance to react, Than turns and starts to walk towards the door, squeezing the plastic handle of the mug so hard that it almost hurts.

“Than?” he hears Zagreus call from behind him, but he pays him no heed. He can’t- he _can’t_ let himself get distracted by his ex-boyfriend, not today, not any more than he already has. Time has passed. They’ve both changed. He, at least, has moved on – whether the same can be said for Zagreus he doesn’t know, but that’s not his concern. He hasn’t spoken to Zagreus in several years - he would have been perfectly happy not talking to him for several more. Zagreus had made it clear enough when he left that he saw their- their _relationship_ differently to how Thanatos had. That he’d seen Thanatos differently to how Thanatos had seen him.

That he’d cared for Thanatos less strongly than Thanatos had cared for him.

Thankfully, that thought no longer hurts to think about. It’s the objective truth as far as Than is concerned. Zagreus _hadn’t_ cared for him as much as he’d cared for Zagreus, and that hadn’t been his fault. He hadn’t done anything to make Zagreus care for him less. That had just been how their relationship had developed. He can’t control what other people feel, and he shouldn’t try to, and if Zagreus had decided to just piss off into the great beyond, leaving Than behind, then… well, then that’s on him. Shit like that happens sometimes. He knows that. It just doesn’t mean that he has to like it.

Than crosses to the front door of the café, stepping neatly around a new customer who opens the door and steps in just as he approaches it. He catches the door with his free hand, making his way out into the street beyond. He doesn’t look back. Behind him, the door swings shut with a merry little tinkle of bells, the sound dying away as suddenly as it started. The cool outside air catches in his lungs on his first breath, but the difference in temperature is refreshing, like it’s helping to blow away the memories that cling to his thoughts like cobwebs. For a few seconds Than just stands there, breathing in the cool air as his fingers gradually start to grow cold, and then he shakes his head, turns, and continues on his way. He’s not going to think about Zagreus. Not today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> The next chapter will be posted on **March 29th!**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! This is my first time trying my hand at a Hades fic, so I hope you all enjoy it! 
> 
> Many thanks to my wonderful beta readers, E, Kas, Kez, and Kathryn! Thanks also to my delightful friends for encouraging me with this <3


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